


Everyone Has a Summer

by terundoru



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-15 14:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terundoru/pseuds/terundoru
Summary: Everyone has a summer they never want to forget.





	Everyone Has a Summer

**Author's Note:**

> This work is indefinitely on hiatus. I decided to go in a different direction with the plot which led to me reworking everything. If I work on it again, I'll probably post the rest at once. Sorry...

“What if I like you more than that?”

With every second that his words hung in the air, his eyes widened, and his throat tightened.  
  
“I like you,” he coughed, “like... _that_...Tachibana-san...”

Tachibana was silent but he spoke in his motions, the smooth movements of his arms uncrossing and crossing again, his eyes shuffling to the right side, searching for the words to say.

The confession wasn’t surprising given the way he’d been acting as of late. Flighty as his mind may be, Kamio was usually intense in practice, but in the past few weeks he was lost in a daydream. He could see that Ishida was volunteering to take over captain’s duties more often than not, and he could see the spontaneous laps that Kamio would run until he was hunched over, close to vomiting.

He could overhear Mori asking Kamio if something was wrong, and he could see Kamio shaking him off and assuring him that  _no, he was fine, and_ everything  _was fine_ ; but then he would become stiff and nervous when Tachibana entered his eyeshot. After practice he heard the underclassmen chattering to each other about him, suggesting he was acting out of the ordinary.

And of course, he noticed his eyes lingering a little longer than they used to and not in the “ _I want to be you”_  way that he was used to, more like “ _I want to be with you_ ,” and Tachibana ignored it because he knew he should. That was probably for the best.

A curtain of red hair obscured more of his face than usual, barely hiding a rosy blush.

“Oh,” he finally said, and Kamio was visibly taken aback by that, shaken by the shortness and the bluntness of his response.

“I-I just wanted to tell you...” Kamio fell down in front of his locker and began to hurriedly gather his things, shoving them into his bag with no real order. Tachibana reached out to him, but in response, he shook his head, wiggling out of his grasp.

“I have to be somewhere soon anyway,” he said quietly. His voice cracked.

He paused and hesitated before looking up at his captain.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

He forced the zipper shut on his bag and threw it over his shoulder, waving and rushing the clubhouse door, his face expressing a range of suppressed emotions, but Tachibana could not hold himself back and, this time, grasped the strap of Kamio’s bag loosely in his fingers, tugging it to pull him back.

Kamio stumbled back, twirling around to face his old captain, his eyes watering slightly.

“It’s fine,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, letting go of the strap and dropping his hand onto Kamio’s shoulder.

“It’s fine,” he repeated, making sure not to say ‘ _me too_ ’ because he wasn’t sure that was what he really felt. There was some warmth inside him when they caught eyes, but it was a mix of pride and something else, something he couldn’t quite place, something  _like_ love, but maybe not the kind Kamio wanted.

He slid his hand down Kamio’s arm and over his fingers.

The tension in Kamio’s arm softened as he allowed his grasp to envelop his hand and squeeze. He looked down at it and then up, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Carefully, he laced one finger through Tachibana’s, then another, until they were both standing, hands intertwined, the roar of the air conditioning unit the only sound between them.

He knew from his gaze, the corners of his mouth gently turning upward, that there was an unspoken, “is this real, and if it is, this is your last chance to back out of this” and that the window of opportunity was coming to an end, crossing the threshold for which they could continue on with their lives and never speak of this again.

But he didn’t think it was fair to never speak of it again.

Kamio opened his mouth to speak—

“ _Oniichan_!” An shouted, knocking rhythmically on the door. “I’m ready to go!”

And their fingers loosened hastily, their arms dropped to their sides, and their gazes ripped away from one another. Kamio adjusted the strap of his bag.

“I’ll leave after you. I…have some things I left.”

Tachibana nodded.

“I’m coming,” he shouted through the wall, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

He looked back to Kamio. He unzipped and zipped his bag again, red-faced and trying not to make eye contact.

\---

Tachibana hadn’t bothered redressing in his full uniform. It was hot and muggy and it would have only made this walk more uncomfortable. An handed him a cold drink and he accepted it gratefully, taking her bag on his free shoulder.

“How was practice?” he asked her.

“It was good,” she replied. “Although nothing particularly special happened. It was  _really_  hot today. But I think we’re going to have a good chance this year…”

“That’s great, you worked hard for that.”

“Yeah, but you know how the school is. I’m glad the boys’ team was able to prove themselves and get a little more funding and it did sort of help us a bit, but it’s still...”

“I know,” Tachibana said quietly. “But I believe you can do what I did last year. We’re similar in that way…”

An smiled, but he could read the smile was slightly bitter.

“I don’t mean anything by that,” he said.

“I know…”

In his silence, he was left alone with his thoughts, and he had trouble reconciling that, at one time, Kamio had really liked An, and (although she would never admit it), An liked him too, at some point, and right now he could still feel Kamio’s hand in his, reminding him that he had said that. Kamio had admitted his feelings. And he didn’t close the door on him.

Maybe he should have just shut him down. It would make things much easier on him.

But that wasn’t really how he felt, he supposed. He took a sip of his drink.

“I’m supporting you,” he assured her.

“I  _know_.”

“Just making sure.”

“You’re also supporting Kamio-kun a lot,” An said and his eyes widened, just a bit, even though he knew she couldn’t possibly mean anything by that.

“I’m supporting all of them,” he said somewhat defensively. “I believe in Kamio and Ishida and the rest, but...I still feel like it’s my team.”

He really felt that way. In autumn of the previous year, schools had extended invitations to him to leave Tokyo and study with them, on full scholarship, as long as he played tennis for the remaining years of his schooling. He had deliberated over it for weeks but ultimately passed the entrance exam into Fudomine’s high school and decided to stay there and focus on building his career.

His family needed him. His team still needed him.

“Well, I know what you mean.” An cocked her head slightly as she thought about it. “I do love all the girls on the team, but the boys’ team has a special place in my heart.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“But you really should let Kamio breathe,” she began. “I think he feels a little intimidated when you’re around. Like he has to live up to something. He’s got a lot on his plate since the new first years joined. And they have that new regular...”

“Maybe you’re right.”

He knew that wasn’t exactly the case, but it wasn’t something he could so easily explain to his sister. And it wasn’t as if he  _hadn’t_ been a distraction.

“I’m sure he appreciates it. I’m sure everyone does.”

“You’re right. I need to let them figure it out on their own.”

They arrived at their house as the sky began to paint slightly orange, although the sun would not completely set for another hour. An opened the mailbox and collected the mail. This usually meant no one was home.

He could hear Gokutora pawing closer, his excited barks intensifying the more the door opened.

“We’re home” he shouted into the house to no response, as expected.

“I guess no one else is,” An muttered, slipping her shoes off.

“ _You’re_  home, aren’t you?” he said, scratching behind the aging bulldog’s ears. He stretched his arms over his head and offered An’s bag to her, liberating his own from his shoulder.

“I’ll start dinner soon.” Gokutora’s entire body jolted at sound of “dinner” and Kippei laughed. “Yours first,” he assured him.

“Let me know when it’s ready.” An yawned and started down the hall to her room.

Tachibana sat down at the table and crossed his arms. He closed his eyes.

Kamio’s face, frightened and wide-eyed, as he let those words fall out of his mouth. As he stared into his face searching for the correct way to answer and ultimately could not find it. The muscles in his hand still remembered how they contracted around Kamio’s fingers.

He opened his eyes and leaned back onto his seat, debating the advantages and disadvantages of visiting the team.

They appreciated his input, but did they  _need_ it? Could he really say he believed in them if he continued to show up every other day?

Maybe it would be better not to show his face for a while. Maybe it would be easier for them to focus on practice if Kamio were less distracted.

It was conflicting.

He’d think about this a little longer.


End file.
